


then/this

by dmdiane



Series: The inevitability of time [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Finn cannot stand Poe being hurt, Finn is pretty smart, Force Bond (Star Wars), Hurt Poe Dameron, Kes Dameron is alive, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Poe Dameron, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, and porn (a little), lots of longing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 06:29:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6504478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dmdiane/pseuds/dmdiane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>they fell in love in a moment; it takes years and much else for them to find one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. then

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this fast with no beta. Please forgive mistakes.

One Year Post – Starkiller

           

Poe sips on a beer slowly. The entire crew seems intent on getting absolutely wasted tonight and it wasn’t very long ago Poe would’ve been leading that charge. Not so much anymore. But he loves the vibe in the pilots’ lounge right now. Music so loud you can hardly think, several folk dancing, lots of laughing. It’s been a long week and their last mission was hellishly intense. It feels right to blow off the steam. The General is enjoying herself at his elbow, talking to Akbar about something. It’s a moment Poe wonders when and how he moved from the pilots’ table to drink with the ‘higher-ups.’ He’s sure it has something to do with how young the newest pilots are. With a ten-year gap in age, they look up to him with worshipful eyes that make it hard to drink with them. Snap isn’t here, he’s home with his kids. Jessika is probably still back in the hangar making sure everything is ship shape. Things change.

            The entire climate of the bar brightens when Finn and Rey tumble in, laughing and gesticulating with BB8 and R2D2 on their heels. They spill across the dance floor, clearing space without even noticing, so caught up in their conversation. A conversation that seems to be coming directly toward the table Poe sits at. He sets his glass down, a wide smile touching his mouth. They are gorgeous. Really, everything about them, the energy, the power, the enthusiasm is lovely, contagious. Poe takes a breath. It’s been a year and he still isn’t able to absorb the impact of them.

            Finn catches sight of Poe and his whole body lights up. Poe feels the electricity of his greeting from feet away. Finn raises a hand. “Poe.” Joy in his voice, his hand lands on Poe’s shoulder. The heat of his attention sears Poe to the core. No amount of time away from this manchild lessens Poe’s desire. It’s as if a bonfire has taken the seat beside him. Poe basks in the warmth and light. He finds himself turning in his seat, hand on Finn’s knee, rapt. There’s no reason to be fascinated by the latest tale of Rey and Finn’s on-going baptism into real world social experiences. They’ve apparently just discovered blowing soap bubbles and Poe hangs on every world.

            When the music turns slow, Finn grabs Rey and swings her onto the dance floor. They are completely enamored with dancing and it shows. Poe watches them move together and his enjoyment drains away. Watching Finn walk away is no longer quite a punch in the gut, but it still steals his breath. He’s suddenly tortured by the visceral memory of Finn pushing him up against the door, the press of his mouth. Poe has to stop. He stands.

Poe says his goodnights and steps into the cool air of the night. He stops to lean on the wall outside and regroup. He has to let go and let the kids just play. Finn loves Rey, though he’s certainly not exclusive. Poe is aware Finn has bedded half the creatures on base under twenty-five. Poe is acutely aware he’s the only person over thirty Finn’s been with. He’s sure the anomaly is solely due to the life-debt between them. He sighs, tries to clear his mind.

            Finn returned from Starkiller base badly wounded at the hands of Ren, Poe stayed at his bedside with uncustomary vigilance. Throughout Finn’s recovery, Poe was there every day, every step. In fact, they spent so much time together people thought they were a couple. They weren’t. Despite that sometimes Poe’s hand or arm lingered longer than necessary, despite that his gaze became magnetized and his world began to reorient around the newcomer, they were friends. After all, Poe was the only person Finn knew. And Finn had literally saved his life. He owed the kid a good introduction to life on a Resistance base. That was all. Until it wasn’t.

            When Rey came back to the base with Skywalker – freakin’ Skywalker – Finn’s orbit shifted to include her. The love between them so sweet and pure it made your teeth hurt. For the first time ever Poe was jealous. Green-eyed, ugly, painful jealous. Which he knew in an instant was just wrong. Just wrong. Finn was his own man for the first time since he was a toddler and Poe had no right. Has no right. He was also mortified by his possessiveness. So uncool. So un-Poe. He reformed his behavior immediately, sure this, whatever this was, was an anomaly. He left off of the hyper-physical constant contact with Finn. He gradually returned to his usual schedule of work and play. He returned to hanging out with his pilots and their families. And for a bit everything settled.

            Then, after a particularly difficult battle run, Poe jumped out of Black One slightly injured, tired, and more than a little stressed about losing a pilot in the fray to find Finn on the tarmac racing toward him, sweeping him into a rather painful embrace, radiating fear and relief and welcome. Without ceremony, Finn kissed him, deeply and completely. Poe’s grasp on reality inverted and he grabbed that kiss like a lifeline. Finn followed Poe to med bay and then to HQ for a report to the generals, all the while holding onto some part of him. At Poe’s door, Finn turned and pressed him to the wall. “Scared me.” He said, his voice low steel. And he kissed Poe again, this time with ferocity and desire so intense Poe simply melted. Pent up longing seared through Poe and washed him away. Just gone. Finn’s mouth on his, hips against his, fingers laced pulling his arms above his head, absolutely helpless to do anything but follow. If Poe had wondered if Finn had any sexual experience – and he had wondered – he was immediately dissuaded of any caution by the skillful way Finn angled him into the room and carefully, worshipfully took him apart.

If he wants to torment himself, Poe can remember every touch, taste, sensation. Sometimes when he’s alone in the dark with nothing but his own hands, he allows his mind to go there. But it’s not healthy. And certainly not now. Not standing outside the hangars trying to breathe, trying not to cry. He shakes himself sober. That was a long time ago. Though, not long enough. No matter how thoroughly smitten he is with Finn, it’s time to move on. If he can. And he must. Kid’s got a long lovely life ahead of him to explore a big wide galaxy. Poe has work to do; he should just get after it.


	2. this

Four years later

 

Finn eases into the indicated room, instantly aware how unprepared he is for this moment. The room is dim and still. Poe Dameron, the magically gifted commander of the resistance fleet lies on the hospital bed so gravely injured no one could tell Finn if Poe would survive.

Finn stops in the doorway, his hand coming to his mouth.

“You must be Finn.” A voice from the side of the room snags Finn’s attention.

“Yes, I…”

A vaguely familiar older gentleman stands and extends a hand. “Kes Dameron.”

Oh Force, Poe’s father.

Words dry on Finn’s tongue as he accepts the offered hand. Finn doesn’t think anyone can be as handsome as Poe, but if anyone is, it’s this man. Warm brown skin, the faint grizzled scruff of beard, Kes Dameron is slightly taller than Poe, his eyes even with Finn’s. Warm dark eyes take Finn in with keen interest, so much like Poe’s. The soft smile lines at the corners of his eyes speak of a long happy life. His actual smile is engaging, even if it doesn’t reach his eyes. With a nod of acknowledgement or perhaps welcome, Kes Dameron returns to his chair.

Finn’s gaze drifts back to Poe. His feet carry him to the bedside, his fingers reach to rest on Poe’s arm. “Oh, Poe.” He says, softly. “Hey, friend.” A chair slides up behind him and without looking back, Finn sits. “I’m sorry it took me awhile to get here. I was back on D’Qar when I heard. Had to wait for a freighter coming this way.” Finn rubs a hand over his face. “Man.” Words back up in his throat. “But, here I am.” He offers. “Just work on getting better. Okay?”

Finn recalls how beat up Poe looked the first time he saw him, just on the other side of torture, bleeding and exhausted. In some ways, this is worse. Poe looks fine. Motionless. But, he’s beautiful. Too many broken bones is the diagnosis Finn was able to sort out on his way here. Of course, the first time Finn saw Poe, those brown eyes were open and a little wary. Now they are closed. He remembers all the days and nights Poe sat beside his hospital bed after Ren sliced through him with a lightsaber. Poe’s daily visits during weeks of re-hab, his singular unstinting support.

When Finn recovered they’d almost been something. For a deep breath of time, Finn thought Poe wanted what he did. They made love twice four years ago. He was too young for Poe, too unfocused, too naive. Poe was absolutely out of reach and Finn has always felt lucky Poe even gave him the time of day after they managed to escape the First Order together. Point in fact, the last time Finn saw Poe asleep they’d been in bed, white sunlight behind him giving Poe a golden glow that felt absolutely perfect. And then life simply nudged them apart. As it was bound to.

Finn hasn’t seen Poe in almost two years. Well, they’ve glimpsed each other, greeted one anther, been at the same celebrations – the Resistance isn’t that big, after all – but as Finn worked his way through finding his own damn self, Poe led the fleet to more victories than defeats. Despite all the lovers and friends and a lot of fun, Finn measured the intensity of his emotions against his feelings for Poe. He knows a pilot has the life expectancy of a lilafly. He’s attended too many memorials for lost flyboys and girls. Yet now, seeing Poe again so close, Finn realizes how the possibility of Poe has anchored him. A hand comes to rest on Finn’s shoulder.

He looks up into eyes so very like Poe’s it steals his breath a little. “You’ll be okay.”

How is Poe’s father comforting him? Finn shakes his head. “Poe.” He says.

“I know.” Kes Dameron says softly.

“I…” Finn has no idea what to say or do.

“Poe will be fine, son. He’s a strong boy. If he chooses to survive he will, if not he will find his peace.”

Finn’s heart contracts in his chest which must show in his face. Because Mr. Dameron rubs across Finn’s shoulders and Finn immediately gets how Poe became so easy with touching. He nods.

“Now. You.” The older man pulls his chair up closer to Finn’s. “Will you be alright?”

Finn shakes his head. Maybe not. Damn it. Maybe not. He knows, can feel, the ridiculous irony of this moment. So he grabs hold of the bravado that propelled him this far and shifts toward the elder Dameron. He begins talking. He starts with the beginnings.

~

Poe floats up towards consciousness to be greeted by full body pain and he slides away from it.

The next time Poe’s brain touches wakefulness, there’s a familiar voice telling him about a night in a bar. Finn’s voice. A cruel betrayal of his sub-conscious, he too often thinks of the rare fineness of Finn. Where in the hell is he? He’d like to wake up, needs some information. But, it’s too far away.

“Son, you’re healing up nicely.” His father. “Our ancestors are so proud of how you landed that broken ship. Anyone else would’ve set that thing on fire in the atmosphere. Even her.”

Poe thinks, crash. Huh.

“You broke seventeen bones landing that thing and still didn’t set it aflame. Skills, son.”

Poe lets this settle in his brain. He has no idea what his father is doing in his head but it can’t be good.

The next time Poe’s brain fizzes up to the surface he actually wakes up. He’s cold and tired. And can’t really move. He’s trapped in the cockpit. Needs to call the base. Maybe Pava can pick him up. “Come on Dameron.” He chides himself.

“Poe?”

Poe’s head tilts to see who’s… Finn. “No.” For a long moment he thinks he’s dying. Because this is the face his mind would offer him if there was really nothing else. The grief he has for Finn, normally tucked away, percolates through him, hot and messy. Gods, he hurts.

“Hey.” Still Finn. Who rarely talks to him, even in his imagination. Gods. This must be bad.

Poe blinks. Focuses past the mirage of Finn to plain pale walls. He glances up. He's not in his ship. He's in a med bay. Kriff. His gaze comes back to Finn, who may actually be here. “Where?” He ventures. His voice is raw.

“Dantooine base hospital.” Finn supplies.

“What. How’re you here?” Poe's grasp of the present is slipping away from him.

“Where else would I be?” Finn’s voice is soft and low, a laugh behind it.

Fingers tighten on Poe's hand. Poe manages a quick assessment. He's wrecked his heart, his ship, and his body. Kriff. Seems the crash didn't kill him immediately, but this surely will. He closes his eyes on the utter completeness of the pain.

“Let me get the doctor.” Finn’s voice is still here. “Force, your dad. Let me get…”

Poe closes his eyes. Kriff.

~

There’s a flurry of activity around Poe. Several med bots and two doctors are intent on measuring everything as quickly as they can. Weirdly no one is touching him. Poe feels the loss of Finn’s hand and hates himself for it. Scans proceed, followed by a few questions. There’s obviously been some concern about brain damage, because they’re stupid questions. Does he know who he is? Does he remember what happened?

Yeah, he remembers taking fire, a brief spiraling loss of control before he righted his ailing ship. He recalls losing enough of wing to close up the pairs and try to glide somewhere close to the base on Gavin-7. Apparently, he crashed the damn thing. And he is Poe Dameron, thirty-six years old, 180 pounds, citizen of Yavin 4, former Republic Navy, currently Commander in the Resistance Space Fleet. And he’s incredibly tired.

“That’s the pain medication, Poe.” The surgeon smiles at Poe gently. “Let me walk you through what’s happened on this end.” An holo-image of a recumbent body appears above Poe and he’s uneasily aware it represents him. The image spins, red dots appearing along the right side of the body. “You experienced 23 breaks or fractures in 17 bones along the right side of your body. The broken ribs punctured your lung and there was considerable muscle tearing and internal bleeding. Fortunately, you landed your ship within minutes of assistance and they got to help fast. You did two days in the bacta tank there. You weren’t conscious, but when we got you here we put you into a coma to allow us to set your bones and immobilize you to heal.”

“How long?” Poe asks.

“Nine weeks.”

Poe considers this. He’s been asleep essentially for two months. He’s not sure what that even means.

The other doctor - who is she - steps closer to the bed. “Your vital signs have steadily improved, which is why we brought you out of the coma. Your bones are knitting well. But, it’s important that you rest and focus on healing. You have a long way to go.” She pats his left shoulder. “You may want to get back to sleep. But, I know your father wants to see you.”

Poe nods, overwhelmed. “Can I… will I...” He doesn’t know what to ask.

The doctor smiles. “We think you’ll make a strong recovery. I can’t make any promises about where we’ll end up. You’ll walk, you’ll be alright.”

Will I fly? He wants to ask. He’s acutely aware of the plastic-alloy braces on his right hand, arm, and shoulder. His ribs are wrapped, and the sled under his right leg runs from his hip to heel, there’s a boot on his foot. Fear traces through him like ice. He flexes his left hand where the echo of Finn’s fingers still lingers.

The doctors withdraw and Poe sees his father. “Welcome back son.” His dad’s voice makes Poe’s eyes sting. His dad’s firm grip on his hand makes it impossible not to cry. The tears drip hot into his hair. His father kisses his forehead.

“I’m sorry, Papi.” Poe whispers. He’s always known his father fears losing him to the air, like they lost his mother. Now this.

“Don’t.” Kes presses another kiss to Poe’s head. He wipes at the tears. “We will get through this.”

His father’s hands on him aches in the best way, leaving him utterly raw and Poe closes his eyes and leans his face into his father’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

~

If Poe thought flying had too many stretches of down time, which he did, that’s nothing compared to recovery down time. He is suddenly gifted – or cursed – with hours upon hours of blank time. During the hours of not much, there’s Finn hovering and his dad reading. Poe’s only awake a few hours a day, but they seem endless. He never seems to get around to telling either of them to go. Force knows he doesn’t want to be alone. This kind of time is nowhere in his reckoning. Plenty of time to wonder if he'll be able to fly again. Plenty of time to wonder why Finn is here. Plenty of time to hope. Plenty of time to despair. Of course the General isn’t going to let Poe languish out here alone. It’s not like she can spare pilots. Poe has studiously ignored Finn’s career. He should just be grateful that whatever it is Finn has been doing, he’s available.

In the first days of wakefulness there are a wide variety of communications from everyone from his pilots to his General. It’s gratifying to be able to talk through what happened to him, the current state of his fleet. He feels much less alone while talking shop. Less worried about his recovery – what if he can’t… well, what if he can’t? Black One is in considerably worse condition than even Poe is. Pava sends him a holovid of the efforts to scrape the ship up out of the swamp he landed it in. While the bits and pieces of the wreckage are recognizable, Poe can’t imagine putting her together again. Beside him, he hears matching swift intake of breaths from his father and from Finn. One glance at their faces as they take in the shreds of Black One tells Poe they can’t imagine how he got out of her. He can’t imagine it himself. Pava’s talking about finding him a new ship. Poe has no idea if he’ll regain the reflexes to fly one.

Finn and Kes are exchanging some kind of non-verbal communication Poe can’t quite see. He’s about to ask them what they’re on about when he catches sight of a scrap of orange on the floor of the hangar.

“Jess.” He starts. Stops. “BB8.”

Jessika’s face scrunches. “You don’t know?”

“Jess.”

“We’re saving everything we can find, Poe. It’ll all be here for you.” Jessika’s voice is tight.

Poe can’t think, can’t breathe. Finn shift around the bed and embraces the pieces of Poe’s uninjured left side he can get to. “Easy, buddy.” Finn soothes. Poe rests his face in Finn’s neck and tries to breathe through this new loss. He’s wrecked his droid. The only other voice he has from his childhood.

“One thing at a time.” Finn is saying. “We’ll put you back together. Then we’ll put her back together.” Finn is still beautiful, older, his face somehow sharper, generosity pouring out of him. The kinetic energy that is Finn percolates under his surfaces now instead of zinging out from him. The calm suits him. He sleeps sitting beside Poe’s bed, despite Poe’s insistence he go to bed properly, go back to his room, go home. Finn ignores this. Poe will ask if there’s someway someone can put a cot up in here for them. His father and his… friend.

At night, Poe dreams of Finn as he was four years ago. Beautiful and filled with uncomplicated camaraderie. Searching for himself in the wideness of space. Poe also dreams of Finn’s hands on him, Finn’s cock filling him. Finn leaving. He wakes sweating and hungry and hoping he doesn’t talk in his sleep.   

~

Kes Dameron watches his son sleep and tries to add up how many hours in his life he’s dedicated to this activity. His broken boy. Kes and Shara teased one another often about how fortunate they were to have Poe as their child. Fearless and curious from birth, with the stamina of a bantha and the heart of a jedi. If they’d had a timid or introverted child like their niece they’d all have been doomed. He cannot fathom how Poe got out of that ship. The cockpit was crushed. As is his boy. All he can feel is lucky to have this man as his son.

Kes wishes he can unsee the wreck of an airship with bloodstains on its windshield. Poe’s blood. Even Poe breathing quietly mere feet from him isn’t reassurance enough to quell the electrified jump of nerves. Knowing Shara died was the worst moment of his life until he got the call about Poe. Even just seven hours of thinking Poe had died, trying to get to Gavin-7, not knowing if he’d survive the bacta tank, the trip to Dantooine, completely undid him. There is residual numbness in his chest, just below his heart, waiting to spread at the thought.

No need to keep thinking along these lines. Kes gives himself a mental shake. Poe is out of the ship, breathing, healing. His son has good friends. Speaks to Poe’s character. Poe is nothing if not loyal and his pilots reflect that loyalty back to him tenfold. Then there is Finn. The young man is clearly in love with Poe, something Poe insisted for months wasn’t even a possibility. Kes wonders what happened between them that Poe left and in the leaving left his heart behind. Whatever it was sent his boy back to him, so he can’t be too sorry. A small smile touches his lips. Funny how life pushes one around.

~

Finn makes a run to D’Qar. He’s been working remotely with the General, which it turns out is his job. He needs better communications equipment for the long haul, though. He promises to bring Poe some actual clothing and get Kes some spices and dried vegetables he hasn’t been able to find on Dantooine. He’s back before dinner squeezing into the room with a large box on a grav sled. Finn parks the grav sled against the far wall.

Poe raises his brows and looks pointedly at the box. “That’s a lot of dried vegetables, my friend. What’s in there?”

“Not what. Who.” Finn’s grin lights up with pleasure.

Kes grunts from where he’s reading in the corner and lowers his datapad. Finn’s smile is contagious. Finn taps on the box with a bit f flourish. Then he takes something from his pocket and hands it to Poe. Poe takes the plastic square in his working left hand and turns it over and the corner of his mouth lifts.

“I’m assured that that is BB8’s brain.” Finn says to Kes. “I don’t know droid brains from kettle fish, but R2D2 combed through the mess of that ship.” He turns to Poe. “And, he says everything we need is either there or in here.”

Poe’s still looking at the chip in his hand. The chip he’d copied his mother’s programming onto and programed around for years. All the quirks of BB8’s personality. Audio of his mother’s voice. All the technical knowledge and skills. Okay. A place to start. When he looks up, Finn’s smiling at him fondly. He could get used to that smile. Something new. “Well, once I get my hand back.” He allows.

Finn tilts his head. “Mine are working fine. Your brain is still mostly functional.” Among other things, Finn brought the hull of an older astro-mech droid in the box.

~

It’s good to eat. Poe is amused when the medical staff tilts his bed and his father spoon feeds him a savory caldo broth.

“I feel like a toddler.” Poe’s complaint is softened by a grin.

“You could do a hell of a lot more when you were.”

“Papi.”

“Bebe.”

Poe waits for whatever is coming next, but nothing comes. His father just calmly continues spooning really the best broth he’s ever had into his mouth. “D’you cook this, Papi? It’s amazing.”

“I did. Next time with meat.”

Four years ago, when Poe realized how far gone he was with Finn, he redoubled work shifts until he was exhausted. Then, forced to take a break, he went home. He didn’t leave the Republic on good terms with his father. Their relationship, strained by loss and their similarities in character, had ruptured when Poe left the Navy in what his father saw as desertion. They stopped speaking. But Poe needed home and his Papi was that home. After a somewhat prickly start, they’d slowly mended the rifts between them. Undoubtedly more due to Poe growing up than either of them changing their minds. There’s something to be said for simple acceptance.

PT follows food. PT at this point consists of Poe standing for a few moments. He’s itching to try a few steps, but that’s not on the schedule until he can stand for fifteen minutes. Right now five is a stretch. His father stands beside him ever at the ready for the moment when Poe is exhausted and has to lie down. At sixty, Kes is still strong enough to hold Poe’s weight easily. Poe’s weight has slipped dangerously low over the past few months, his hip bones sharp in his sleep pants, each notch of his spine visible under the flimsy jersey.

Kes tilts his son back onto the bed and slowly tilts the bed back to a resting position. “You going to explain to me why Finn is here with you?” Poe’s eyes snap to his father’s. Kes shrugs. “You told me there couldn’t ever be anything between you. But here he is.”

“When I told you that, he was a boy.” Poe swallows more soup. "He’s a nice man, Papi.”

“Poe.” Kes nudges his son. “He is indeed nice. And funny. And handsome. And quite smart.”

“Want to get to the point?”

“And here.” Kes pulls the shoe from Poe’s left foot and massages the arch. “Leia is nice. Not here. Jessika is nice.”

“Not nice.”

“Nice. Not here.”

“Snap is nice. Not here.”

Poe, mouth full, rolls his eyes. “Your point?”

“I wonder if you weren’t wrong about this man.” Kes says.

By the time dinner and PT are accomplished, Finn is back, freshly washed and groomed, bearing a toolbox. “I think I’ve got some of the stuff you asked for.” He says to Poe, as if they’ve been in a conversation all this time. “Guy over in mech repairs put this together for us.” He rolls a table over and opens the toolbox in front of Poe. Finn has commandeered four adjustable tables for the room, using them for a variety of tasks from sitting beside Poe working on a piece of hardware, to sitting curled in the corner keyboarding furiously with the Resistance HQ. An entire corner of the room is dedicated to astro-tech building, neatly organized. Every time Finn re-arranges, Kes chuckles and shakes his head.

~

The Dameron men are sleeping, and not a quietly as one might expect. Soft sighs and snuffles fill up the med bay room while Finn works on a complicated flight and ground assault plan against a First Order camp on Genua Prime. Finn glances up at a small distressed sound from Poe. Like everyone, Poe has nightmares, they don’t always wake him and this on didn’t. But, Finn waits and watches until Poe’s expression smooths out again. He watches because he loves Poe’s face, too. Every angle and crease. Peaceful is best, black lashes resting on high cheekbones, chiseled lips relaxed. Finn’s gaze travels to Kes. If Poe sounds unhappy enough, Kes will wake up, too. The older man sleeps undisturbed.

‘how is he?’ flashes up at the bottom of the view screen. Leia.

Finn ponders whether she’s noted he stopped working or has sensed his his distraction. He doesn’t feel her tiptoeing around in his head, but she is subtle and sometimes it’s just a reflex. She must know there can’t be any quick answer to her question. Finn blows out a silent sigh.

‘pain seems to have eased away to aches. he’s weak.’

‘he must hate that’

‘he’s unhappy.’

‘you must hate that.’

Now Finn can feel Leia’s smile, the gentle embrace of her love from across the light years. She’s the closest to a mother he’s ever known, and give it another couple years and he’ll probably be calling her mom. He lowers his guards and lets her closer, returns his own love for her. They are careful about their use of the Force; he from long habit growing up in the First Order troops where it would’ve gotten him killed, she from the long habit of her temperament. Leia is a very private person, her reserve legendary. Finn eases away from her and back to work.

Poe is the person who saved him, named him. Leia was the person who _saw_ him. Straight through the intense bluster of the sheer enthusiasm he shields himself with, she saw every last iota of him in one instant. For eighteen months afterwards she ignored him. Or, so he thought. He came back to D’Qar one afternoon from traveling with Rey to a retreat – Skywalker noticed him, too – where he’d steadfastly resisted every whiff of Force energy, only to be summoned to HQ. He sauntered in to the conference area and felt his customary bravado stripped from him at the door. Leia turned from the display and asked him to analyze the tactics of the recent First Order attack on a small Republic city. As is they’d been working together for ages. As if he wasn’t a 25 year old ball of confused loyalties. As if she expected him. He’s been working since then.

 He ought to be at HQ right now. Working from here isn’t impossible, but it’s not the same as being there in the mix of the conversation. When he’s in the little room available to him here he can at least participate via holo-conferencing. But in the med bay, he’s reduced to old fashioned keyboarding and reading. He ‘s not willing to bring work into the fragile peace they’ve built in this room. Poe doesn’t need to know what’s happening on the various war fronts, or with his pilots, for that matter. And for Finn, well, he’s not here for any Resistance related reasons at all. He’s here because his heart won’t allow him to be anywhere else. As long as Poe lets him stay, he will.

~

When Poe wakes up the hospital is quiet. He glances around to try and find out what time it is and his gaze lands on the form of Finn leaning on the edge of the bed, seemingly asleep. The thick blunt fingers wrapped around his are unbearably comforting. It is always the hand holding, and a flash of remembered heat passes through him. Poe tries to recall ever feeling more defenseless. Force, he can’t get up. Can’t feed himself. Can’t… he closes his eyes again.

“You awake?” Finn asks sleepily.

Poe hums, grateful Finn has turned loose of his hand.

“Can I bring you anything?” Finn stretches.

My heart, Poe thinks stupidly, which you’ve had for far too long. “Some water, maybe?” He says. Finn lifts a glass with a straw and Poe sips. “Yeah, thanks.” When Finn absently touches a soft cloth to Poe’s wet lips, Poe’s is just gone, undone by this absent minded care from the man he is so desperately in love with. His mom, the war, Finn, now this. Life hates him. “I can’t do this.”

Finn’s brow furrows and he leans close. “What? What’s wrong? Let me help.”

Poe chuckles. “You… gods, you’re the problem, buddy.” Poe makes his eyes meets Finn’s, finding baffled wonderment there. “I can’t do you. Hurts too much.” Poe whispers.

“I don’t…” Finn’s expression turns puzzled. “What’re you…”

Guess it takes being trapped to do the talking he should’ve years ago. “Finn, buddy, listen. I can’t be friends with you.”

Finn’s head tilts. “Poe?”

“I love you. Okay? Just hurts too much.” Poe puts the words out there stolidly. He cannot manage his broken heart with Finn lurking about and his father speculating.

“Poe?”

“Seriously.”

Finn chuckles. Poe knew this was a terrible idea, he’s sure the humiliation has turned his cheeks red.

“You scared me for a minute there, buddy.” Finn says softly, leaning closer. “If that’s all, we can work it through.”

Poe wishes he could move, could run. “No, I... we… can’t. I tried. I really....” His words and thoughts are stopped by Finn’s lips on his. Whatever resolve he’d felt to end this misery is blown away in the heat and sweetness of Finn’s perfect mouth. Finn’s tongue curls into Poe’s, the taste and smell of Finn so much better than he’s dreamt.

“I love you, too, Poe.” Finn presses the words to Poe’s lips in soft kisses. “Always have.”

There’s no mistaking the intensity of Finn’s liquid, nearly back gaze. Poe might drown in the desire there, a reflection of his own, causing hope to swoop through his belly and chest.

“Seriously.” Finn grins. “I’m not leaving.”

“You’re…”

“I need you to get better. I mean, I always thought you’d be there when I got myself sorted out and all, you know, together enough. Then, this. Gods, Poe.” The loss flits across Finn’s expression and pierces Poe’s disbelief. He reaches out for that hand again, weaving his fingers between Finn’s and tugging their joined hands close. Finn glances at their entwined hands and his expression clears. “So not leaving.”

“Enough for what?” Poe tries to quash the absurd bubble of hope in his chest. Finn has kissed him before and meant nothing more than simple attraction.

“Enough for you.” Finn says this easily as if it’s obvious.

“Me…” Poe doesn’t understand.

“What would a professional hero and ace pilot who can have anyone he glances at want with a useless kid? It made sense, in a way. Kinda broke my heart. But, when I heard about the crash.” Finn stops. A shadow crosses his expression and he looks at his hand in Poe’s, his thumb caressing the back of Poe’s wrist. He gathers himself. “Guess I thought… always kinda thought we’d be together. You know. I couldn’t even accept you being dead without us… when we hadn’t…” He looks up and meets Poe’s eyes, all earnestness and heat. “Get better and be with me. Need you to do that.”

Poe allows the intensity of his feelings wash through him for the first time in – maybe the first time ever. “I can do that.” He answers.

Finn’s smile lights Poe up. Then he is kissing him, soft brushes of lips, light caress of breath. “You love me.” There’s wonder and relief in Finn’s voice as he presses the words to Poe’s lips.

Poe traces his hand up the side of Finn’s face, holding it where he can meet the dark brown eyes. “Loved you the first time I saw you.”

“No.” Finn laughs. “That’s crazy.”

“I know, right?” Poe agrees.

“But you didn’t seem interested, you left.” It’s not a question, nor is it an accusation.

“I was way too old for you, buddy.” Poe admits. “In a lot of ways, not just years. I didn’t want to cramp your style.”

Finn’s eyes narrow as if he’s measuring this idea and finds it lacking. “But, I loved you then, too. Wanted you so bad.”

“I gotta have it all, Finn. I can’t play at this anymore.” Poe says, his expression growing solemn. “You weren’t ready for all in. Might not be, still.” An icy trickle zips through him at the admission. He’s not sure he can let go twice.

Finn answers first with his mouth, hot and insistent against Poe’s. He swipes his lips open and curls his tongue around Poe’s mouth, a small moan slipping from his lungs into Poe’s. Poe drowns in the contact in case it’s the very last he’ll have, the desperation pressing up. When they have to breathe, Finn says, “I can do all in with you, Poe.”

A cascade of pleasure hits Poe hard, shattering his fragile composure. Tears glazehis vision. He can’t think or speak, but he can pull Finn back to crash their mouths together.

Finn’s laugh is soft and dear and vibrates through them. He leans farther to let some of his weight rest on Poe’s left side. Poe’s immobility is both maddening and tempting. After all it’s what it took for Finn to catch him. “Hey, Poe.”

“Yeah?” They are kissing, Finn’s fingers stroke through Poe’s hair, Poe’s curl behind Finn’s ear. Finn’s free hand rests on Poe’s chest and his hand curls there, pressing lightly.

“Think you can stand up leaned against this thing for a bit?”

“What do you have in mind?” Poe pauses in his exploration of Finn’s jaw to look up.

The sparkle in Finn’s eyes is wicked, the longing familiar, even if Poe didn’t recognize it until just this moment. Finn’s brows lift, the question on his face. Poe nods. Finn’s grin widens and his free hand slips to the bed’s controls.

The bed tilts to just shy of vertical, setting Poe’s feet on the floor while he leans. Slowly Poe comes level with Finn and they are face-to-face inches apart. “Easier on my back, buddy.” Finn teases, tracing Poe’s profile with a gentle finger. Finn presses his mouth back snug against Poe’s.

Vertical, Poe can slant his mouth into that kiss and give some weight into it, bring his left arm up and press circles into Finn’s back. The man tastes so good, so warm, so here. Poe is swamped by the power of it. There’s a moment of agony as he realizes he was right all those years ago. This. This is different, this has none of the frantic fizz of infatuation, none of the fear. This. This is ridiculously sane, deep, and wide. Poe is slightly overwhelmed. He leans back. Without really thinking about it he lifts his right arm, still tightly encased in plastic-alloy, and brings his finger to Finn’s lips. Finn tilts his head and smiles. He turns his head and kisses Poe’s exposed fingertips lightly, taking his index finger between his teeth, earning a swift intake of breath from Poe.

The sensation on Poe’s fingers is exquisite; it’s been months since those fingers have touched anyone he loves. The shock zings straight to his groin and he groans.

“Oh man, I want to make love to you.” Finn’s voice vibrates against Poe’s fingers. “Kiss every inch of you. Brand every single bone in your body.” Hands carefully frame Poe’s hips, thumbs tracing the hipbones possessively. “Wanna taste your skin and set my teeth on you.”

The words peel back layers of Poe’s reserve. He grips Finn’s arms with both hands. “Buddy, damn.” He whispers. He nuzzles up against Finn’s jaw, mouths along the strong column of his neck, sucks on his collarbone. Finn shivers deliciously. Poe chuckles. “Not sure how your gonna make any of that happen. I’m a little limited here.” He noses under Finn’s chin inhaling deeply. “But, I’m game.”

Finn pulls back and the two men look at one another for a long assessing moment. Poe revels in the smoldering desire he sees in the back of Finn’s eyes. He may be all grown up, but Finn is still a force of nature in the raw. Finn bites his lip and cocks his head. “Will you let me?”

“Whatever you want.” Poe says.

Finn wants a lot and most of it’s not really on the menu. He grins. He does want to give Poe pleasure and to finally satisfy his aching need to see and touch every part of Poe. It's the middle of the night, if he asks they not be disturbed, that might be within reach. “Give me one moment.” He says, tucking a kiss into the corner of Poe’s smile. “Be right back.”

Poe leans against the bed, enjoys standing upright, wonders where Finn is going, and savors the bubbling possibility Finn loves him, he might be able to have this. This amazing thing that’s been all he’s wanted for years. Just thinking this way suffuses his body with heat and light. From bones to skin, Poe feels more alive in this instant than he has since the last time they made love.

Before Poe can fully process the thought, Finn ducks back into the med bay room gliding to him and settling another kiss on his mouth. He could get used to this far too easily. He frames Finn’s face to meet his eyes.

“Whatever I want?” Finn asks.

Poe smiles.

“I want to take this off.” Finn unties Poe’s shirt on the side seem, kissing a line down his throat to his sternum, strong fingers float across Poe’s chest. Finn’s touch isn’t light and Poe wonders anew how the man knows him so well, Poe hums. The rib braces have been gone for days and Poe has lost enough weight that his ribs are distinct, Finn’s fingers trace them one at a time with maddening care. Finn’s mouth is on its own journey across Poe’s shoulder and neck, up to his ear and at his temple. Poe leans into the touch, the joy ebbing through his mind and body. Poe loves being touched. Cannot get his fill of physical contact that’s been sorely missing from his life since the crash.

“I want to take this off.” Finn’s dropped the shirt to the floor and is carefully unfastening the arm brace that extends from Poe’s shoulder to fingertips. He strokes the underside of Poe’s arm, smiling when Poe shivers. He follows fingers with plush lips, snugging soft kisses over Poe’s skin, fitting one into the crook of his elbow. He finds traces of Poe’s true scent amidst the smells of ointment and plastics that’ve replaced the smell of oil. He trails a soft moan of absolute delight from Poe’s elbow to wrist.

Poe’s eyes drop shut at the sound. That anything about him drags that sound from Finn is bliss. Finn’s lips find the palm of his hand and open there, a velvet warm tongue laves between his thumb and forefinger. “Finn.” Poe whispers.

Finn chuckles, rubs his thumb over the path his tongue just left. “Want this off, too.” Finn’s free hand anchors at the drawstring of Poe’s pants. Poe’s head tilts back. Before he can say anything, Finn goes to a knee, kissing a line from under Poe’s ribs across smooth skin, following the trail of black down that lines beneath his belly button. He pauses at his belly button do smooth a gentle lick that makes Poe groan.

Poe’s cock is heavy and filling, which feels crazy because… Finn stops his thought by releasing the drawstring that’s the only thing holding his pants up and they fall to his ankles leaving him bared. His hands come to Finn’s shoulders. Finn noses against Poe’s belly, fingers digging into the curve of his hip bones. Warm breath ghosts over his quickly filling cock and it’s entirely possible he will come just leaning into this. Finn greets Poe’s cock with a chuff of air and a kiss while he unfastens the leg brace and lets it fall away.

Finn stands against Poe, clasps both his hands. He nuzzles Poe’s cheek and nose. “Hi.”

Poe can’t speak. Finn’s eyes have him locked up. Finn is fully dressed almost lying on his bare skin and it’s too much to try and talk around. He nips Finn’s jaw, catches his bottom lip and sucks him into a deep kiss. Finn slowly raises Poe’s arms over their heads, this isn’t entirely without a twinge of resistance from unused muscles but the stretch feels amazing, as does full body arch against Finn does.

“Trust me?” Finn asks.

Poe nods.

Finn pauses. He’s almost sure this will work. If it doesn’t he’s almost sure he can save them from becoming a painful heap on the floor. If it does work… the fire smoldering in Poe’s eyes offers him exactly the mental shove needed to do this. He turns Poe’s hands to grip the bed frame, covering them with his own. Closes his hands and presses his forehead to Poe’s. He takes his stare deep into Poe’s gaze and wills the bed to tilt back to the horizontal position, using the press of his body against Poe and the strength of his hands and arms to keep them in place when their feet leave the floor.

Poe feels the bed shift, assesses the risks, his eyes widen, and his cock stands to full attention. This is the closest to flying he’s been in months. When they pass the fulcrum allowing their weight to be held by the bed he lets go and grips Finn’s ribs, captures Finn’s mouth with his and gives himself over to the sheer pleasure that is the moment of weightlessness balanced by the weight of Finn’s body over his.

Finn shifts to Poe’s left, ensuring the bulk of his weight is on the bed. He noses along Poe’s neck. “Sssshhhh. I want easy.” His hand curls around Poe’s cock. “Slow.” He brushes his thumb over the leaking head. “Want to remember all of you.”

Poe’s right hand recalls unbuttoning another guys pants, but the muscles aren’t anywhere near ready for that and he fumbles, laughing softly. “You gotta get outta these.” He mutters. “Cuz otherwise I’m just gonna come all over ‘em from you talking.”

This. Finn shuffles out of his pants. This, the camaraderie and tender friendship of lovemaking is a precious sliver of what he’s missed. What he’s wanted all this time. He stretches flush again with Poe, who’s shifted onto his side. The electricity when their cocks brush against each other sucks the air from the room. Finn is done with whatever seduction he thought might be needed. He licks the palm of his hand and wraps his fingers tightly around the both of them and pulls. Poe’s body arcs back with the shock of the contact and he thrusts into the circle of Finn’s hand with more force than Finn expected. Kriff. This is happening. This.

Poe feels Finn’s breath catch and opens his eyes to an expression of pure bliss on Finn’s lovely features and that’s all it takes to white out his vision, send him spilling hot onto Finn’s hand and belly. Finn comes right behind him with a guttural moan that fills Poe up as warm fluid splashes up his torso.

Finn’s awareness of anything outside his body and Poe’s presence eases back slowly. Liquid, wet, brown eyes are holding him. He wipes Poe’s tears from his cheek. Poe chuckles and wipes at Finn’s cheeks. Finn realizes he’s crying, too. He grins. They weave fingers, press foreheads together, mingling tears and breath.

“Hate to clean this up, but we’ll hate it a lot more if we let it go.” Finn sighs, finally dragging his gaze from Poe’s to survey the mess they’ve made of the bed and themselves.

“I could use a shower if you’re up for helping.” Poe says. He stretches out his rarely free right arm. As long as he’s unfettered, might as well enjoy as much as he can.

“Let’s do it.” Finn agrees, shifting off the bed and peeling off his shirt.

Poe can’t think of anything he wouldn’t do to have the view. His brain has clearly turned to mush. He grins dopily up at Finn’s puzzled expression. “Nothing. I mean, yes, let’s do this.” He sits.

In the shower, Finn sees what he’s sensed for weeks. Poe is a shadow of his previous self, skinny, pale, and banged up. Finn tries to assuage his grief at this by giving the man the most thorough washing he can. He’s on his way up the back of Poe’s legs when Poe catches him under the chin and nods him to stand.

“I’m okay.” Poe says, when they are level.

“You’re…” Finn glances down.

“I’m okay.” Poe repeats. “Better. Can’t stand your puppy eyes, buddy.”

“Can’t help it, Poe. You’re hurt.” Finn blurts. “Can’t stand you hurt.”

“We’re a pitiful pair.” Poe admits.

Finn’s answering grin is slow and wide.

“What now?” Poe asks.

“We’re a pair.” Finn says. “We’re a pair.”

Poe leans to kiss him. “Guess so. Yeah.” Finn kisses him back, so good, so grounding, so gods-be-thanked real.

~

Kes arrives in med bay with lunch. He’s made Poe’s favorite grilled cheese and spicy nut soup. Poe and Finn have pulled up tables and are working on the droid. Seems BB8 was angry for hours about finding herself stuck in a datapad but has settled into helping the two men put a useful body together for her.

Kes tugs another table around for the food and begins laying it out. He doesn’t interrupt the stready stream of beeps and blurps, it seems Finn is holding something up for Poe to tighten. A servo, if the blurps and looks of things is any measure. The room feels entirely different. Kess looks over to where the two men are working shoulder to shoulder. Shoulders touching. Ah. He’d say he could also smell it, which is true, but best left unsaid. “Good morning, boys.” He offers. “Lunch is hot.”

“Smells great, too, Papi.” Poe mutters without looking up, he twists his wrist once more. His expression loosens with satisfaction. “Aright. That’s that.”

Finn sets the device on the table and both men look up expectantly. Kes grins. Then, he grins wider. They will get through this fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments and kudos and stuff. I've also made it onto tumblr where you can shout at me: http://dianessus.tumblr.com/


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